She's a little runaway!
by HitTheKillSwitch
Summary: Late one Thursday night, Soul Eater Evans opens the door to find a soaking wet girl asking for a place to stay. He says yes, of course, but who is she, and what is she running from? AU
1. Chapter 1

I was sprawled out on the couch, shuffling the popcorn bowl in my hands to get the fluffy, yellowed kernels from the bottom of the bowl to the top. The usually cozy and inviting living room was pitch-black, only illuminated by the horror movie flashing by on the television screen. On the little end table next to the couch I was sitting on was a large stack of horror movies- Halloween, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street- all of the classics. Okay, so maybe it _wasn't _the smartest idea to have a horror movie marathon on a stormy, lonely Friday night, but I didn't have anything else to do. Boredom had ruled over my brain ever since I had gotten home from school, and I had to suffer through debating on whether or not to do my algebra homework (I chose not) before I could do _something _interesting… which ended up being this.

Sighing, I watched as Jason cut down another victim. I'd totally seen that coming. The girl currently being chopped to bits had literally just stood there screaming while Jason slowly walked up to her, taking his time before making his move. Oh well, I guess if the characters were smart and possessed the brains to run away and call the police (like a normal person), then it wouldn't be much of a story.

A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the room, accompanied by a deep roll of thunder that seemed to rock the foundation of the apartment.

"HOLY-" I yelped, popcorn flying in all directions as I flailed around. My breaths came in deep and ragged, my eyes wide as I waited for the thunder to calm. I sighed, scowling as I glared down at the scattered popcorn. Actually, now that I thought about it, the entire room was a mess. Empty DVD and CD cases were littering the table, accompanied by random unopened mail and old pizza boxes. I hadn't vacuumed in a while, which sucked since now the popcorn I had spilled mixed with the crumbs from previous messes. Grumbling about the unfairness of life, I rolled off the couch and onto the floor before crawling over to the light switch, flicking it on so I could see again. The shadows that possessed the room disappeared into their corners, chased away by the bright white light that now filled the living room.

I sighed as I looked at the mess. Did I really want to clean it up _now?_ At- I glanced at the digital clock resting on top of the counter- 12:30 at night? Not really.

Just then a soft _thump_ came from what sounded like my room, followed by a loud CRASH. I whipped around to face the hall, my heart pounding harshly against the wall of my chest. What was that?

My gaze settled at the room at the end of the hall- which ever so happened to be my room. I stared at it, a feeling of apprehension building. I took a small step back. The door stood there innocently. I could almost hear it mocking me, laughing at my fear. The many, many gory scenes from the variety of horror films I had just watched flashed through my head. I gulped. Usually horror movies never bothered me (the reason I had so many of them), but I've never had loud, mysterious noises occur right after watching them, either. Plus, it seemed that the people who dismissed the noises in the dark were always the first to die in the movies- I'd prefer not to end up the same way.

Was it possible I was being a bit paranoid? Yes. Did I care? No, not really.

Slowly, I slid over to the front door, where I had lazily flung my hockey stick yesterday after playing for several hours with my best friend, Black Star. I picked it up carefully, weighing the wood in my hands. I'd say it'd hurt pretty bad to get hit in the face with it… let's use it as a weapon, then, shall we?

I raised it above my head like a baseball bat, hoping it'd work as a club if it turned out there was someone there. Now that I had a weapon (kind of), it was time to go down the Hall of Doom. One foot in front of the other, Soul, that's it. The light flickered above me, probably because of the storm. The floorboards creaked beneath each bare-footed step, matching each heavy breath I took. What was with this dark, heavy atmosphere?

I stretched one hand out, the excruciatingly long journey over. Feeling the cold doorknob finally in my palm, I slowly turned…

_BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM_

"Hello? Is there anyone home? _Helloooo?!_"

I jumped, dropping the hockey stick as I whipped back around to look at the front door, my heart flying up to my throat. I leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. Holy crap, that scared me. But at least the overwhelming feeling of dread had disappeared, so that was good. I ran to the front door, realizing whoever was there had about another thirty or so seconds before they woke up the entire apartment complex.

I flung open the door, narrowly avoiding getting hit in face by a small, angry fist. I looked in surprise at the person standing in the doorway, my narrow brush with death(?) forgotten.

She looked like a drowned kitten. It was a young girl, only a few inches shorter than me. Her lips were blue and trembling, and her delicate face was pale (though I couldn't tell if that was natural or caused by the cold). She was dripping rain, small pools of water already forming at the bases of her big, clunky black boots. The girl was petite, and the fact her clothes were mostly over-sized only made it worse- a baggy old military-style jacket, ripped old jeans and a yellow T-shirt. She glared up at me with big, two-toned green eyes, pushing her wet blonde hair away from her face as she asked,

"Hey. Got somewhere that I can stay?"

**XXX**

**Why are my first chapters always so short? Geez. Anyways, this story was originally on my other account, IAmScaredyCat, but that account got screwed over and I lost all the chapters from this story. So, this is a repost… except that I had to re-write the first chapter and I remembered zilch from the original. So, I'm completely re-writing it. Fun.  
>Anyways, I hope this doesn't suck. Please review and tell me what you think.<strong>

**Love,**

**HitTheKillSwitch**


	2. Chapter 2

I had no idea what to do with the situation at hand. At all. And I was starting to get a migraine from trying to figure out what I was supposed to do next. I mean, it's not like there was some How-To manual for taking care of a dripping wet (probably homeless) thirteen-or-so year old girl that I could consult. Shit, why the hell did I have to tell her yes? I was terrible with kids. They usually ran away screaming with one glance at me, and I was perfectly fine with that. I didn't really like them, either- it was a perfectly balanced relationship. But… this kid had caught me off guard, and I sort of maybe felt a bit bad for her as I watched her stand there, shivering…

_"__Hey. Got somewhere I can stay?" She asked. _

_"__No." I replied dumbly, on instinct. She gave me a disapproving glare. What? I wondered to myself. I'm not going to let a stranger just walk on into my apartment, not on this side of town! What if she was a thief? A murderer? What if the whole 'innocent homeless girl' thing was just a ruse to get me to let my guard down? She looked like she was from the rough side of town. She should know where I was coming from. _

_"__Come on, asshole. I'm really cold, okay? And in case you haven't noticed, your apartment is really warm." She snapped at me. I could see the way she was discreetly eyeing my living room, which I found a bit creepy. She could probably feel the heat radiating out from my apartment. It was then I noticed the difference in temperature between the hallway and my apartment. She was right. My apartment _was_ a lot warmer._

_The girl closed her eyes, tilting her head a little closer. Aw, shit. Now she really looked like a kitten. All of a sudden, her small frame shook from a particularly bad shiver, causing cold water droplets to fling off her hair. I flinched as a few hit my face, shocked by how cold it was. How long had she been out in the rain? Glancing down at the small puddle forming at the base of her feet, then back at her clothes that stuck to her body, I guessed a few hours. _

_ "__Listen, it'll only be for a few days!" She insisted, her eyes popping back open to peek over my shoulder into the living room once more. Never mind. Back to creepy and desperate. _

_I glared down at the girl, hoping she found the red eyes scary and left. No meant no. I wasn't taking the chance that she'd slit my throat while I was sleeping and stole all my stuff. We stood like that in silence for a bit, neither of us wanting to budge. Finally, she shook her head angrily._

_"__Fine. Hope the guilt eats you alive." She mumbled. She turned to go, poorly concealed disappointment written all over her face. I started to feel a bit guilty as I shut the door. Where else did she have to stay, a cardboard box? She wasn't getting any offers from the people in this building. Too many prissy assholes. She sure picked a bad apartment complex to try and get anything out of, much less a place to crash. Mrs. Fritz in room 208 was possible, since she was always looking for charity cases. Maybe she could stay with Dr. Stein, one floor above me? He was always looking for new… uh, test subjects… crap._

_ "__Wait." I spoke up, throwing my door back open. "Yeah. Fine. Whatever. You can stay here."_

_The girl stopped, halfway down the hallway, and looked back at me, a scowl on her face. She shoved her hands into the wet pockets of her jacket, not taking any steps closer._

_"__I won't do anything bad, Scout's honor." I added, in case she was worried about that._

_ "__You were a Boy Scout? Please. Kurt Cobain looks like he would've been a better Boy Scout than you." She scoffed, looking me up and down with slight disdain. So she was still stiff from the initial rejection… I could deal with that. _

_ "__No. But I don't know any other swears, unless you want a Pinkie Promise." Holding out the little finger on my left hand for emphasis, I offered her an uneasy grin. Pinkie Promise? Wow, that was lame of me. But, she took a few quick steps closer, and to my surprise, hooked her little finger around mine._

_ "__Whatever." She shrugged. "But, Pinkie Promises are eternal. Break it, and you'll regret it."_

… Which led me to my current situation of hiding in the hallway while the girl tried to get warm in the kitchen. I rubbed my temples, trying to figure out what I needed to do. Unfortunately, I'd probably have to talk to her. Get her name, maybe try and hear a little bit of backstory. Like I said, she didn't look much older than thirteen or fourteen or so, which meant I probably needed to turn her in. I had a friend whose Dad was a cop that dealt with stuff like that. You know, troubled teens, young criminals, whatever. She'd probably be put in the foster care system. That wasn't a very fun option- I've heard pretty bad stuff about the not-so-nice homes. But what was I supposed to do, let her wander around Death City until she got kidnapped? Raped? Killed? The girl was a bit of a bitch, and I didn't really like her, but I didn't really want her to _die._ Maybe in the morning, if I could get her to talk to me, I'd call. The sooner I got her off my hands, the better.

But first, I needed to man up and say something. _Get your game face on, Soul. _I told myself. _You're a cool guy. You can handle this. _I walked as confidently as I could, all the way to the end of the hallway. It was good enough for me. I gave up and peeked around the wall that separated the hallway and the kitchen. 

The girl just sort of sat there. She didn't look up, or talk. Or move. She was in the same place I'd left her about five minutes ago, sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table, with an old towel separating her butt from the chair. She wasn't sopping wet anymore, of course, it was just a precaution. Her still-damp blonde hair dripped a little bit onto my old orange T-shirt, though. I felt a bit of a laugh start to bubble up as I took in the blue basketball shorts, orange shirt and bored expression. She looked ridiculous. I covered my mouth, not wanting her to hear me though not sure why I cared. The mismatched clothes hadn't been on purpose, though now I wished a little bit that they were. I had just grabbed whatever was clean and close, not necessarily fashionable, since I didn't want her to get sick and die or something. Waking up to a dead body in my living room didn't seem like it'd be a fun experience.

"So…" I started, finally realizing that spying on a girl that'd be staying in my house for an undetermined amount of time was really stupid. Actually, that was a good point. How long would she be staying for? She'd said a few days, right? How long was a 'few days'? I didn't think I could handle her for more than a few days. The girl looked up at me, her fingers tightening around the plain white mug full of coffee I'd given her. I had asked her if she wanted hot chocolate, but she was having none of it. I found that a bit weird; how many thirteen year olds drank coffee? She'd asked for it black, too, no cream or sugar. I had neither of them, so I didn't care much. Maybe she liked her coffee black because it was dark…. like her soul.

"Do you mind if I have some more?" She asked, sounding weirdly polite as she held up the mug. I shrugged, walking over and plucking it out of her hands. As I did so, I noticed with a jolt that her knuckles were bruised and swollen. _Must've hurt like hell, being out in the cold and all. _ I thought to myself, remembering how every injury felt ten times worse when it was cold outside.

I poured the coffee. This was one of the first times I'd used my coffee pot- I'd only bought it at the insistence of one of my friends, Tsubaki. _'It's always good to have- you never know when you'll have a guest.'_ She had said, plunking it in the shopping cart along with a bag of coffee grounds. I had sighed, partially because I had thought I'd never use it, partially because I hated shopping for household appliances. And shopping and general. I thanked Tsubaki in my head, glad I had taken her advice.

"So…" I said again, plopping the mug back down before sitting in the chair across from her. She didn't respond, just took a sip of the gross-smelling drink and stared at me over the rim of the mug.

"Um… so, my name is Soul. Soul Eater Evans." I introduced myself awkwardly, grinning in a way that felt more like baring my teeth. Yeah, Soul, way to make her feel welcome. Flash your shark teeth at her. Instead of flinching, like I was used to, she just set her cup down.

"Your point is?" She asked blankly. All right. So she was done being polite.

"The point is," I shot back. "That you said you needed a place to stay. I kindly welcomed you into my home-"

"Kindly?" She snorted.

"-so I think I should at least get to know the name of the person I'm going to be stuck with for who the hell knows how long." I continued, pretending I didn't hear her.

"… I still don't see why-" She began, sounding irritated.

"Either tell me your name or get out." I cut her off, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair. "I'm not living with an unnamed stranger for, again, who the hell knows how long. So either start talking or leave- it's only fair."

She glared at me uncomfortably. I didn't waver.

"…It's Maka." She said finally, shifting her glare to her hands. I exhaled with quiet relief, glad for the progress.

"Good start." I told her, not bothering to push for a last name. Maka just rolled her eyes. She had pretty eyes, really, not that I would ever say so. They were vivid green, sharply contrasting to the dull red color my eyes were. _Christmas colors. _I realized with surprise.

"I'm sixteen. How old are you?"

"I don't see how my age matters." Maka said defensively.

"I gave you mine, all right? I just wanted to know if you're fourteen or thirteen." I replied easily. Shock registered on her face as she stared at me. At least it was a step up from her previous expressions- anger and boredom, I thought to myself mildly. How off was I, anyways?

"I'm sixteen, you asshole!"

"Pfft, no you aren't." I laughed, cocking my head and observing her tiny frame. There was no way she was my age. Fourteen, I could see, but sixteen?

"Am too!" She snapped back. I held up my hands, trying to stop chuckling so she wouldn't reach across the table and slap me.

"All right, Miss Sixteen, whatever you say." I said, not being able to resist that last jab. "So, what're you doing all by yourself?"

That shut her up.

"What? No _What's your favorite color? _or anything?" She hissed at me. So, I struck a nerve… which meant I was right. This girl was probably a runaway. I guess that meant I had a call to make the next day. I stayed quiet, hoping she'd continue. When Maka realized her answer wasn't satisfactory enough, her scowl deepened, but she continued.

"I'm seeing a relative in Death City. You think I can't travel by myself or something? I'm sixteen, a fact _you're_ finding hard to believe."

"Mhmm…" I nodded slowly. She was fine traveling by herself, yet she's staying with random men, had no luggage, was freezing to death and didn't have a car to get around (otherwise, why wasn't she sleeping there instead of my apartment?). But she was sixteen, so that automatically meant she was perfectly suited to traveling by herself. Oh, and her relatives were fine with what she was doing.

Bullshit.

"Great, so we aren't complete strangers anymore. Can we be done with the interrogation now?" Maka finished. I shrugged, my way of saying _sure, why not._ I stood up from the table, glancing lazily at the digital clock built into the stove. 1:42, the neon green numbers flashed at me. I groaned. I had to get up at six tomorrow morning for my part-time job, and my headache was still alive and kicking. But now I had to worry what I was going to do with my new temporary pet. On less than four and a half hours of sleep…. The entire thing felt wrong on so many levels.

"Come on, Shorty." I told her, motioning for her to follow me. Ignoring her angry splutters of protest at her new nickname, I padded into the hallway, my bare feet slapping the polished wood floor. I didn't bother to see if she came or not. The question was, where was she going to sleep? Not in my room, of course, and not in the living room. There were two empty rooms… the one next to mine was huge, and unoccupied, but even after two years, I still wasn't comfortable with other people staying in there. That left the room across the hall. I stopped briefly in front of the door, swinging it open and pointing inside the room.

"In." I told Maka, who had followed me, unsurprisingly.

"Why?" She asked cautiously, glancing inside. "What's in there?"

"Nothing." I said. "That's why you're sleeping in there."

She looked at me for a moment, but stepped in the room, swiveling her head to take it all in. There wasn't much. I had never gotten around to decorating, since I found it boring at best, so I never bothered with this room since no one ever bothered to look in. The walls light yellow, and bare except for a clock above the bed. It had sheets, which looked clean enough to me, but no pillow or blanket. I'd have to grab her some. Next to the bed was a little end table, and on the other side there was a desk, both made of matching dark wood. Across the bed, there was an old bookshelf that I'd forgotten I had. It was full of books, but I was pretty sure I had read… well, none of them. There was a little yellow lamp next to the squat little bookshelf, to provide extra light for reading. Overall, it was a pretty dull place.

Maka didn't seem to think so. She walked straight over to the bookshelf like there was a neon sign over it saying, _ONLY SOURCE OF ENTERTAINMENT, HERE! _Crouching down, she skimmed the spines of the books, looking at them with a much nicer expression than she ever showed me.

"Mind if I read these?" She asked.

"I don't care. They probably aren't mine, anyways." I shrugged in response, turning on my heel and ignoring the puzzled look she stopped to give me. My room was slightly bigger than hers, though not by much. Too tired to look much at anything, I went straight to the closet and tugged it open.

"Ugh…" I groaned, looking at the mess the doors had concealed. I felt too tired to do much of anything but sleep, but I started digging my way through the mess, regardless. Old sneakers, dirty T-shirts, a basketball, old gym shorts… I made a face when I found a daddy long legs spider crawling over an old stuffed animal from when I was a kid. Grabbing an old jam jar, probably from a late night snack, I picked up the creepy crawler and sealed it inside. Holding it up to eye level, I inspected it as it's thin, spindly legs scrabbled across the glass sides of the jar. The spider looked at me blankly, eight beady eyes gleaming. Gross… but I'd deal with it later. I set it on my desk for late used, being sure to poke small holes in the top so it could breathe.

_Blankets, blankets, blankets… aha. _I smiled as I finally uncovered a quilt folded at the bottom of my nuclear war zone- I mean, closet. Shaking it out, just in case of more spiders, I folded it over my arm and snatched a pillow off my bed before making my way back across the hall, to Maka's temporary room. She was sitting where I'd left her, crossed legged on the floor, head tilted down so she could read easier. One of the books from the bookshelf lay open on her lap. Her blonde hair, completely dry now, was just long enough so that the tips brushed the pages.

"Here." I told her, tossing the stuff onto her unmade bed. No reply. She was too engrossed in the thick, hardcover book, with a grayish blue cover. I ducked down to read the title, written in bold black print. _Moby Dick. _Oh. I'd heard of that book before. I think it had been one of the ones I was supposed to read for a school assignment, but never did. I'd been right. I hadn't read most of the books in the shelf, if they were all like that. I stood back up, not wanting to bother her.

"Night, Maka." I told her quietly on the way out. "Hope the bedbugs bite."

**XXX**

**Ughhhhhh my keyboard's all greasy since I was eating popcorn while writing this. And this was so awkward. Like, really awkward. I always thought Maka was younger than she really was. I'm not sure why. Anyways, hope it's still a good chapter, if not a little dull. Apologies for the spelling mistakes and bad language. **

**Fingersofbone, thank you for updating! I suddenly realized I hadn't started writing my side of the deal yet, so I was scrambling to get this done. Hope you liked it. I probably wouldn't have updated if you hadn't. Thanks to my reviewers, favoriters and followers! Please review and tell me what you thought, I really appreciate it. Now that I've checked this off my list, I have to go be ridiculously stressed about ridiculously stupid things. **

**Love, **

**HitTheKillSwitch**


	3. Chapter 3

Distantly, Maka could hear someone swearing at the beeping of an alarm clock, and the thud of feet running across the floor. She couldn't really care less. The sun barely shone through the thin curtains covering the window, offering her little light and telling her that she should probably sleep for a little longer. After all, when was the last time she actually had a _bed?_

Maka buried her face into the pillow and inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of old soap. It had a different scent and feel than her pillows at home, but when she closed her eyes and worked her imagination a little, she almost felt like she was back in her room, with its lemon-smelling curtains and ginormous bookshelves and light pink-painted walls. Her father had insisted on the color, saying it was perfect for 'his little princess' before trying to glomp her. She had promptly slammed the door in his face, but... well, right now she would do anything to be back in that girly room. Actually, she realized with a shot of sadness, she wanted to feel her lousy, overbearing father hug her again. She shook her head violently, trying to erase all the thoughts she had accidently let loose in her mind. How long had it been since she thought about this stuff?

The front door to the apartment slammed suddenly, startling her. She bolted upright, the blankets on the bed going flying onto the floor. Holy crap… she inhaled deeply, reclining back a little bit in an effort to calm herself. _You're okay_. But, there goes her plans for sleeping- now, she was wide awake. Rubbing a hand through her knotted, messy hair, she looked around. Where was she? It took her a second to realize how quiet it had gotten. She hadn't even noticed the loud ruckus someone had been making, all throughout the apartment. Who was that, anyways? Maka stretched, groaning as her joints creaked with protest.

Waaaait.

The rain last night.

Blair hopping into an apartment window.

That asshole named Soul Eater.

All of the memories from last night came flooding back, much to her displeasure. Blair sure had picked a shitty place to stay in, Maka scowled to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up uneasily. Dozens of little dust particles floated in the air, illuminated only by the weak morning light shining through the curtains. Her feet sunk in to the soft beige carpet, and she couldn't resist humming happily as she worked her calloused toes further into the fuzziness. Well, it wasn't really that the apartment was shitty, Maka decided as she glanced around her tiny little room, which she hadn't seen much of the day before. She had mostly been interested in the books last night, which she had engrossed herself in until she had eventually dragged herself over to the bed and passed out_. How could someone with such a crappy personality have such an amazing taste in literature?_ She wondered of the albino that was lucky enough to own all the books filling the bookshelf. They had spanned across all genres- Moby Dick, Anne of Green Gables, the entire Harry Potter series, The Book Thief, Sherlock Holmes, and A Wrinkle in Time were a few that caught her eye. The books were the most interesting, if not the most useful, things in the room. Probably in the entire apartment.

Speaking of the entire apartment, Maka had work to do. Important work, that involved some stealthy sleuthing on her part. Straightening her thin shoulders, she marched with a new-found purpose across the room and swung open the door as silently as possible. Unfortunately, the hinges squeaked loudly, which sort of ruined the whole 'stealthy' part of the plan. But on she continued, into the hallway, shivering a bit when her bare feet stepped off the carpet and on to the wood floors.

It was time to find that damn cat.

"Blair…" Maka coaxed softly, inching her way down the hall. _Where could she have gone?_ Maka wondered as she made her way past the bedrooms, her bare feet making annoying TITCH sounds as she walked due to the fact they stuck to the wood floor. _Dammit, I'm trying to sneak here!_ She cursed. After all, if Blair didn't want to be found (which she probably didn't so early in the morning) then Maka was going to have to sneak up on her- which was easier said than done considering her superior feline hearing.

Blair, an alley cat, was sometimes more trouble than she was worth. Maka had picked her up one day- quite a while ago, now that she thought about it- on the streets by some trash cans, ignoring the purple kitten's angry hiss. She shouldn't have done it; getting attached to things in Maka's situation wasn't the best idea, and the last thing she needed was a pet. Blair would just be an extra mouth to feed, while she was struggling to find food for herself. There was no way she'd be able to take care of a cat. Who knows, maybe someone else would find her and take her in. The cat might've been better off just staying on the streets.

But standing there, all by herself, scared and wrapped up in a problem that shouldn't have been hers, and seeing a little fur ball like Blair… she couldn't help it. Maka picked her up, wrapped the kitten in her coat, and continued on her way. She didn't really consider Blair as a pet, really- more of a companion than anything else… wow, that sounded pathetic.

But companion she was. Blair was actually the one that chose where the duo would stay. She would wander around, eventually sliding into an opening in some sort of house or apartment. Maka's job was to watch at a distance, so she'd know the correct place, then strut up to the front door and bang on it until someone let her in. Oddly enough, everyone living in a place Blair picked would let her in. She'd stumble across Blair sooner or later, and they'd stay there for a little while, but would leave whenever Blair decided. For some reason, their system worked. There was no reason to change it, so the pair continued on, waiting to reach their destination.

Reaching the end of the hallway, she peeked around the corner into the kitchen, bright green eyes scanning the room. Nope, not under the table. Not behind the fridge, either. Maka turned, sliding over to the wall making up the other side of the hall and peeking around that corner as well, this time into the living room. No purple kitten under the coffee table, and no movement from under the couch. She wrinkled her nose. When was the last time that Soul Eater had cleaned his living room? _All men are just pigs_. She shook her head with disgust, rolling up the sleeves of the old t-shirt she had borrowed from her. Eventually, she'd need to get her old clothes back. No way was she going to wear his hand-me-downs during… well, however long she was going to be there for.

Grabbing the trash can from the kitchen and dragging it over, she started her cleaning crusade against the living room. Finding Blair could wait, she had decided. Unfortunately, she hadn't found any gloves (or a vacuum), so she'd have to pick everything up by hand. Ugh… she trashed a few moldy Oreo cookies, grimacing. Gross.

It took a while, but she managed to make a sizeable dent in the disaster taking over Soul's apartment. To her surprise, the trash can wasn't too full yet, even though she was certain that she had dumped enough trash to fill it up at least three times over. Maybe it was bottomless. With a grin on her face, she glanced over at the digital clock in the kitchen, sure that she had used up at least an hour or two on cleaning. But, as she shoved some empty CD cases into one of the cabinets, she couldn't help but groan when she read the numbers 8:32. It felt like it was too early to be doing much of anything, although she would usually be in school by this time. But, then again, how long had it been since she went to school? She must've gotten her days and nights mixed up by sleeping at dawn and waking up at nightfall, but it was worth it. Night was safer.

It was only a few minutes and about another foot of clean floor later when some sort of music started blaring, effectively scaring the shit out of Maka. She jumped, whipping around to stare in the directions of the hall. _What the hell was that? _She wondered, her heart pounding.

Dropping some empty Pepsi cans into the abyss, she wandered cautiously down the hallway, her fingers trailing against the wall. She followed the music all the way to the bedrooms, slowly coming to a stop in front of the door where the noise was the loudest. SOUL'S ROOM was scratched into the wood in a messy handwriting, the light-colored marks contrasting with the dark door. Maka blinked. She couldn't imagine the landlord being too happy about that. Well, she couldn't imagine Soul being too happy with her snooping around in his room, either, but that music was going to bother the neighbors.

Shoving the door open, she honestly wasn't even surprised by the mess spilling out of the closet. The rest of his room, though, actually did seem kind of clean. Before she could pay much attention to her surroundings, though, a purple streak flew out from behind her, startling her for the third time that morning and fraying her already raw nerves.

"HOLY JESUS!" Maka screeched, falling over with a loud _THUD_. Blair hissed, swiping at the biggest daddy-longlegs she'd ever seen with a strong purple paw. The spider scurried out of the way, barely missing her outstretched claws, which instead hit an oddly placed music stand. It clanged to the floor, sheet music by the dozens being launched into the air in the process. Maka observed everything in stunned silence, never moving from her place on the floor- the papers floated to the ground, falling like leaves as Blair jumped and the spider scuttled and the radio blared.

"SHUT YOUR FACE DOWN THERE!" a voice yelled from up above her, through the ceiling, reminding her that she was in an apartment. "YOUR GOD IS TRYING TO SLEEP HERE- Aw, shit, I'm late!"

Although she wondered what the guy meant by 'God', it was enough to snap her out of her daze so she could scoop up her misbehaving kitty. Gold eyes glared up at her, full of annoyance instead of guilt. It was if Blair was saying, _what did you stop me for? I was in the middle of doing you a favor!_ Giving her a skeptical look, Maka rushed over to the radio, dropping to her knees. She yanked the plug out of the socket, breathing a sigh of relief when the punk rock shut up and silence replaced it.

Checking the rest of the bedroom, she felt her shoulders slump. She had _just _started cleaning the living room! Shifting so that she could carry Blair with one arm (no way was she putting her down until she could find that spider and put it outside), she replaced the music stand to its original position and began gathering the sheet music. Hopefully she wasn't crinkling any of them too bad, but she was trying to collect them single-handedly. It was much more likely that no music sheet would escape unscathed.

Once she had all the papers balanced on the lip of the stand, she started wondering why Soul had sheet music in his room- piano music, if she was reading it correctly. Complicated pieces. Well, at least Maka assumed so. She couldn't comprehend any of it, but there were a lot of dots, a lot of lines, and a lot of notes scrawled in the margins of the paper in messy handwriting. Stuff was crossed out and re-written; things were cut or added…

Now this was snooping. Scooping up the remaining papers, she propped them up on the stand and walked away. She was just in there to turn off the music. She had no interest whatsoever in how that asshole Soul Eater spent his free time, absolutely none.

Wandering back into the living room, she didn't even bother to look at the remaining mess still scattered across the ground. If high schools in Death City lasted until the same time her school back home did, then she had about six hours until Soul came back, which was plenty of time to finish cleaning. Really, though, what she wanted to do was leave. Leave and never come back. Blair meowed, looking up at her curiously as though she could sense Maka's distress.

Instead of sitting on the couch, she curled up next to it on the floor, glad that Blair was tucked safely in her arms. Closing her eyes, she let her head drop, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur on the cat's back. The apartment felt too quiet, even though Blair's soft purring rolled through the air. Maka blinked her eyes open sleepily, but didn't raise her head. As a result, the living room was tilted at a 90 degree angle, but she didn't mind. It was warm in her little corner. It was safe.

She and Blair were going to be okay.

…

"Where the hell is Black Star?" Soul huffed, his hands folded in front of him, eyes glued to the classroom door. He had woken up late, so tired from the night before that he'd slept through his alarm. There had been no time to brush his hair, and he'd dressed in the dark, so his already messy hair stuck up in all directions and his socks didn't match. That didn't put him in a very good mood.

"How am I supposed to know?" Liz scoffed, not even looking up from filing her nails. "He's probably just skipping school again."

"I should've known…" He groaned, leaning back in his seat and covering his eyes with his hands.

"Oh wait, there he is."

"What, where?" Soul gasped, trying to sit back up but moving too fast. Losing his balance, he toppled out of his chair and crashed to the ground, bringing most of the papers scattered across his desk with him.

_"You are so stupid!" _She laughed, wiping away a fake tear. Soul glared at her, shuffling the fallen assignments into a messy pile and standing up slowly.

"Thanks, Liz." He hissed. She just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why are you looking for him in the first place?" Kid asked, taking Soul's papers from him and tapping them against the table to even them out. Then, with a hint of disapproval, "Usually you'd be skipping with him."

Soul grimaced, thinking of the brat he had taken in the night before. The more he pondered it, the more he realized he had just made a big, big mistake. If that girl was a runaway, there had to be something or someone she was running _from. _Soul had problems of his own; he didn't have the time or the energy to take care of hers. She'd be better off if he could get her off the streets, anyways. Though that could never happen unless Black Star would freaking _hurry up and come to class for once! _Where was that idiot when Soul needed him? He seriously needed to ask him for advice!

Whoa. Never thought he'd say that…

**XXX **

**Sorry about the POV switches (first to third from the first chapters to now, Soul to Maka, blah blah blah), but I wanted this chapter to be about Maka. Sorry again. Also, can Oreos get moldy? I don't think they can... anyways, here you go. I updated. Bam. It only took, what, two months? Thanks to everyone who's still reading this, despite that, and thanks a ton to everyone who reviewed! **

**Maybe popcorn is becoming my power food, since I eat it every time I write a chapter on here. Now that I think about it, I really need to stick with a story and finish it, considering I have four unfinished stories on here. None of my stories have been completed, actually… Dammit.**

**Love, HitTheKillSwitch**

**Thanks again to Fingersofbone, Strophantus, and Professor Maka for reviewing! **


	4. Chapter 4

The clock ticked ahead in the slowest, most painful way possible. At least, it seemed that way to Soul. He had been sitting in class for, what, almost an hour? But Black Star still hadn't shown up yet. He probably overslept again, that idiot. Bouncing his leg up and down impatiently, he stared blankly at the first question on his biology worksheet, searching his tired brain for any sort of answer that would sort of maybe make sense. **Meiosis of a diploid cell results in: A**_. One tetraploid cell _**B.**_ Two diploid cells _**C**_. Two haploid cells _**or D**_. Four haploid cells._, it read. What the hell did any of that bullshit mean?!

"Kid, do this for me." He pleaded with his friend. He just turned and gave him a disapproving look, holding a finger to his lips to hush him before going back to writing his name. With careful precision, Kid began coloring in the last letter of his first name, his yellow eyes narrowing with intense caution. He was already on the H, though, which was quite a feat. It must've been a good day for his OCD.

"Then at least stop Patti. The rest of the class is about ready to strangle her." Soul deadpanned, pointing at the young blonde girl. She had gotten her hands on some candy, and was enjoying herself not by eating them, but by using her classmates as target practice. Annoyed sighs and pissed-off groans filled the air quietly; enough to show discomfort but not loud enough to attract the attention of the teacher. Kid rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath before moving in to help out Tsubaki. Tsubaki was by far the nicest of the group (after all, she had been the only one willing to help Soul move into his apartment), and was desperately trying to plead the younger girl into behaving.

"Come on, please? Wouldn't it be much more fun just to eat the M & M's?" Tsubaki asked gently, reaching out for the bag. Patti moved it out of her reach, an expression like one of a defiant child's on her face.

"That's a terrible idea, Tsubaki. If she consumes more sugar, she'd implode." Liz stated, using her biology worksheet to test out nail polish colors. _Well, _Soul thought to himself, _at least I tried on that thing._

"Patti, you need to stop throwing M & M's at the people in front of you. They clearly don't like it." Kid reprimanded her, taking away the packet of candy.

"What? Why not?" She blinked, a slightly angry look crossing her cheerful features.

"Because most people don't like candy in their hair…" Liz explained to her tiredly, finally looking up from her nails to glance over at where her sister's chocolate-y projectiles had been headed. "Ooooh, yeah, you should stop. That is _not_ a nice finger to be holding up…"

Soul rolled his eyes, too used to Patti's stunts to care. It so wasn't cool to react to stuff like that. Sighing unhappily, he went back to watching the door. The seconds ticked by, yet nothing happened. Pencils continued to scratch-scratch their way across papers, Patti continued to quietly complain about her candy, and the sickly sweet smell of nail polish and M & M's tainted the air, but the door remained closed and Soul remained deep in thought about what to do with Maka.

After what felt like one of the longest minutes in the history of minutes, the classroom door finally swung open. To Soul's disappointment, however, it wasn't Black Star. It was the office secretary, Miss Marie.

"Hey there, class." Miss Marie smiled, brushing her long blonde hair out of her pretty face. One warm eye searched the class, finally resting on Death the Kid. She motioned for him to come down with one hand, adjusting her black and gold eye patch with the other. No one quite knew why she wore it- whether it was for a medical reason or fashion, people usually just respected that she had it and left it at that. Miss Marie was really nice… no one wanted to dredge up bad memories for her, not even completely oblivious guys like Black Star or Soul.

"Kid, you're needed in your father's office real quick." She informed him. _Oh, that's right. _Soul remembered. The DWMA, the only school in Death City, was also the city hall. Half of the gigantic building was dedicated to the education of kids from primary school to college, and the other half was full of offices and meeting rooms. Miss Marie coming into class suddenly made so much more sense- she was both the school receptionist and Lord Death's secretary, Lord Death being the mayor. Kid nodded, gathering his papers in the neatest way possible, splitting the stack in two, and putting one stack under each arm before making his way down the stairs to the door. _Okay, maybe not such a good day for OCD, _Soul frowned.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Dr. Stein, on the way here I found _one of your favorite students_ running through the hallways, and thought maybe I should bring him here." She giggled, pulling a tired-looking bluenette through the door behind her. Giving the class a final little wave, she disappeared back into the hallway.

Black Star grinned, offering Dr. Stein a small shrug before quickly heading up the stairs. Holding up a hand, he tried to get Kid to give him a high-five, but the other boy just shook his head at him as they crossed each other. Ignoring it, Black Star plopped down in the empty seat next to Soul, his face red and his breathing fast, most likely from running the three miles from their shared apartment complex to the school.

Stein stared eerily at the two for a moment, but let it be and just began speaking to the class about the differing cell structures in plants compared to animals. Black Star got off the hook because Miss Marie brought him in, Soul supposed. Lucky bastard.

After waiting a few seconds to make sure Dr. Stein wasn't paying attention, Soul poked Black Star in a way he hoped was discreetly under the table.

"Hey. Hey, Black Star." He whispered.

"What do you want, peasant?" Black Star muttered back. "Make it fast- Dr. Stein was giving me the evil eye back there. I must be on probation."

"Okay, dude, whatever. Just listen for a sec. I need your help with something-" Soul hissed, abruptly cutting off in the middle of his sentence when a sharp yellow missile went flying an inch away from his nose. He turned to gape at the pencil lodged in the desk behind him, Black Star doing the same with a whispered, "Oh, shit." Liz turned away with a poorly concealed snicker, knowing good and well what was waiting for the two idiots. With a start, both of the boys' heads whipped back around when Stein began to speak.

"If whatever you two are saying is so important, you can discuss it in detention after school. I don't need you interrupting my class with your nonsense, understand?" He said, walking around the dissection table while writing something down on his clip board. "Let's see… how about you clean the lecture hall? I believe that would be an appropriate punishment."

They both groaned automatically, a trained response from many, many detentions.

"Son of a-"

"Watch your language, Mr. Evans, or I'll have your Saturday afternoon as well." Stein interrupted, his expression going dark. Soul clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to spend his weekend alone with a deranged psychopath. Well, his biology teacher, but whichever you wanted to call him it was basically the same thing.

"Way to go, buddy." Black Star grumbled, smacking him upside the back of the head.

**….**

The lecture hall was one of the biggest rooms in the DWMA, seating five hundred students. It looked like a bowl cut in half; the floor was ground level by the door and by the teachers podium, but it got higher and higher as went down the rows of desks. It looked like a small stadium, really. Large windows loomed to the right hand side, opposite the door, stretching almost from the floor to the high ceiling and offering an incredible view of Death City if you could sit high enough up in the riser-styled seating area. The outer edge-the farthest away from the teacher's podium- was often where the troublemakers (or Soul and the gang, whoever got there first) sat, since the teachers could barely see what was happening back there due to all the people in front. Unfortunately, whenever Stein was teaching, it didn't matter how far back anyone sat. Sometimes, Soul couldn't help but wonder if those glasses were just for show…

"I don't even know how we survive living in the same apartment building together with that jerk! And jeez, what was so important that your GOD had to go to detention?" Black griped, waving his mop in the air and sending dirty water everywhere. Soul ducked to the side to avoid getting hit, his own mop held up in front of him like a weapon.

For some reason, Soul just felt annoyed. Usually, he could deal with his friend's insufferable personality a lot better, but he didn't have time to deal with his whining right then. All day, he had been itching to tell Black Star everything going on, and now that they had the chance to discuss it he had to go sit through more bullshit. Harboring a possible fugitive was a much, _much_ more important topic than his best friend's ego, unless Soul somehow didn't have his priorities straight.

"Please, you would've ended up here sooner or later." He shot back, unamused. Black Star whipped around, his mop whacking against Soul's so they crossed like swords.

"We'll fight this out like men." He declared, waving the mop around to try and splatter Soul with more water. He dodged it with ease, taking a step back and watching the drops fall harmlessly to the tiled floor.

"You're a man now? Since when?" Soul asked with fake seriousness.

"Oh, that's right. I'm a God." Black Star realized, completely missing the insult.

"Black Star, dammit, I seriously need your help here!" Soul exploded, dropping the mop and throwing his hands up in the air. "It's about this girl staying in my apartment!"

His best friend froze. Dropping his mop as well, he turned slowly to face Soul, one eyebrow raised so high it was halfway up his forehead. "… What's this I hear about a girl in your apartment?"

At least it had gotten his attention. "Not like that," Soul insisted. "She knocked on my door last night asking for a place to stay. She looked soaked and cold, with the rain and everything, so I invited her in since I didn't want her to get sick or anything. Her story was complete bullshit. Said something about visiting relatives, but she had no luggage, car, directions… she seemed completely out of it. I don't even think she has money or a phone or anything."

"You think she's a runaway or something?" He asked, suddenly interested in a different way.

"Something like that. Your Dad knows works with this stuff, right? Can you help me out?"

"Tell me what you know." Black Star said with a nod, snatching a pen off the floor and perching himself on top of a desk.

"Honestly, not much. I know her name's Maka, and that she's sixteen." Soul explained, observing his friend scribble down the info on what looked like a stained napkin. When he was done, he glanced back up expectantly, to which Soul could only shrug. Black Star dropped the pen in annoyance, giving him a skeptical look.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that. I may be a God, but even I'm not that good." He scoffed.

"Uh… okay, well, she's really pale, with green eyes, blonde hair..." Black Star waved his hand, motioning to keep talking. Soul struggled to come up with more. "She doesn't sound like a street kid or anything since she doesn't use slang, so I'm going to guess she hasn't been missing too long. Maybe came from a good school, since she reads a lot?"

"Got it." He finished with a flourish, picking the napkin up and re-reading it, an intense look on his face. He seemed to be the picture of concentration- eyebrows scrunched together, his fingers tapping his chin, a steady frown… but Soul knew better.

"Are you actually able to read that?" He sighed. Black Star's handwriting and reading skills both sucked.

"Shut up! My reading level went up to, like, seventh grade or something. That's probably better than yours!"

"Eleventh."

"Fuck."

** …**

Kid strode directly down the center of the row of guillotines, each step perfectly paced. The guillotines had been brought in for decoration purposes, at his father's demands. Being the mayor of the most influential city in the most influential country in the world means you tend to have your demands met, if you know what I mean. A dark look flashed across his face as a particularly lopsided cloud floated by his feet. Kid had to say, his father's tastes were rather eccentric- the strangely shaped artificial clouds floating around, the odd sky walls, no furniture (except the medieval execution devices and a single mirror, if you'd count those), and an open ceiling. He had no idea how his father did any of it. How did he make the clouds? Why did it seem like there were no walls? How was it possible to keep the office from flooding when it had an open ceiling? The entire office just seemed like something out of a cartoon or an anime or something.

"Ah, Kidd-o! Glad you could come!" His father sang, popping out from behind his mirror. If Kid had never seen him before, he might've had a heart attack. The mayor of Death City, being a frequent target of assassinations, was required to wear a flowing black cloak wrapping around his entire body and a skull mask over his face, both to protect his identity. The dark and gloomy outfit contrasted sharply with the bouncy and cheerful personality of his father, but Kid sort of liked it. As future mayor, he'd had to wear a smaller version of the suit a few times himself. At least the mask was symmetrical.

"My name's not Kiddo." He sighed as his father skidded to a stop in front of him, the hollow eyes of his mask lining up with Kid's own gold ones. The air suddenly dropped a few degrees, making small shiver race down his spine and bringing about a feeling of apprehension. The reason for the chill had to be that Lord Death was, for one of the rare moments in his life, serious. He straightened up, glancing back in forth as though to check for people. _Why? _Kid wondered, slightly confused. _It's not like there's anywhere for someone to hide. _

"Is there something I should know about?" He inquired, waving to get his father's attention once again.

"Well, yes, that is why I called you here…" Lord Death hesitated. "Do you remember a man by the name of Spirit Albarn?"

"Ugh." Kid groaned, unconsciously wrinkling his nose with disdain at the memory of his father's former red-headed employee.

It had been a while since Spirit Albarn worked for Death City, but he had been one of the best employees at the time. Kid had no idea why he was a good worker, since he was a terrible man. Not terrible as in cold or cruel or corrupt, or anything- from what Kid could remember from his few meetings with him, he was just a family-man with an alcohol problem. To be able to tell about that last part, though, you had to be around him a lot. A goofy smile, polished appearance, and pictures of his wife and daughter in his wallet was the Spirit Albarn most people knew in the office. Clubs in the seedier side of Death City, however, knew his other half. They'd probably even give you a discount if you mentioned the name of one of their best customers.

"His daughter went missing a few months ago." Lord Death continued, making Kid fall silent. Spirit Albarn's daughter? He exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair but instantly fixing it up again. That was rather… surprising news. A memory floated to the surface of Kid's mind, one that would've been happy but now just made him feel rather sick. It was of him and that girl… what had her name been again? Melanie? No, that wasn't it. She'd had a strange name… Mana? Mika? Maka? Ah, yes, that was it! Maka. It was of him and Maka, running around the DWMA as children while their father's discussed finances in city hall meetings. Back when he was younger, his OCD hadn't been nearly as bad…

_"Come on, Death the Kid!" Maka insisted, her short little pigtails flopping all over the place as she raced down the rows of cubicles. A tiny, weak urge to fix them flared up in his chest, to make them nice and even and perfect, but he didn't really want to. Maka hated having her hair touched, and she seemed like she was having so much fun. He didn't want to ruin it. _

_ "I'm coming, I'm coming!" He panted, struggling to keep up with her. "Just… maybe slow down a bit?"_

_ Death the Kid had never been good at running. Books, he could deal with. Math or science or even political debating, though he was only nine, were things he was actually rather good at dealing with. But sports? Please. Maybe he'd have to build up stamina eventually, but until that day came where it actually mattered that the mayor's son was physically strong, he'd stick with his school work._

_ But, Maka was a little bit younger than him, and younger kids liked running around and playing. She was only eight, wasn't she? Only by a few months, of course, but he was still older. Eight years old… eight was such a wonderful number. A befitting number for such a wonderful girl, and Maka was wonderful, really. Very intelligent for her age. Kid had taken a bit of a liking to her, so whenever she came up to him with green eyes wide open and pleading, asking him to play... well, it was hard for him to say no._

_ Maka slowed to a stop, huffing an exaggerated sigh. Plopping down on the floor with her back against a desk, she motioned for him to sit down. Death the Kid did so, gratefully._

_ "You're so slow!" Maka complained, poking him in the leg with the toe of one of her shiny black shoes. Kid frowned at her, brushing off the dirt she had gotten on his pant leg. _

_ "Maybe that's because it's harder for me to run in dress clothes." He pointed out, tugging on the end of his white button-up for emphasis. Coming to the office with his father meant he had to dress up- black dress pants, black shoes, and a tucked-in dress shirt and tie. Not the most comfortable clothes for running, really. Maka, on the other hand, just wore a neat little orange sundress, with matching orange ribbons tying up her hair. The younger girl tilted her small head, shrugging when she saw he had made a valid point_

"_Death the Kid is too long of a name." Make decided, completely changing topics as she chewed on one of her fingernails thoughtfully. "Can I call you Kiddo, like your Dad does?" _

_ "Absolutely not." Came his instantaneous response. Kiddo was one of the worst nicknames ever! _

_ "Well, fine then. How about Kid?" She asked impatiently. "It's not Kiddo, but it's still shorter than Death the Kid."_

_ He contemplated the idea for a moment, trying to imagine that being his name. It didn't sound too bad, he supposed. Straightening his shirt collar in a way that he presumed to be professionally, he offered Maka a tentative nod of agreement. _

_ "All right, Kid!" She beamed; popping back up to her feet and taking off down the rows of cubicles once more. "The race is back on!"_

_ With a sigh, Kid stood up, jogging after Maka even though he hadn't fully caught his breath yet. He didn't really mind the race, or the nickname. The smile on her face always made it worth it. _

Kid looked away from his father uncomfortably, feeling a bit unnerved by the memory. Maka had been so young at the time… it was hard to believe she was missing. She would be okay, right?

"Spirit called me up for a favor the other day. He believes she might've been heading here, to Death City, though he doesn't know when or if she's really coming at all. Despite that, he begged us to keep a lookout for her arrival."

"Wait," Kid realized. "What do you mean, 'she might've been heading here'? Do you think she ran away?"

"I'm sorry, Kiddo, but I can't give you all the details." Lord Death sighed, a sound that didn't quite match with his high pitched voice. "It's a complicated matter that'd I rather you didn't dirty your hands in too much. Just keep an eye out for her, and let me know if you see her. All right?"

Kid frowned, not very pleased at being kept out of the loop. He should've been able to know the circumstances of her disappearance- this was a rather personal case, after all. His childhood friend was missing. Did she even remember him still? Oh, who cares. What mattered right then was finding her safe and sound… but a few months? That was a long time to disappear. It made him slightly anxious thinking of all the things that could happen in that period of time.

"I can do that." He agreed. "But I doubt she still looks the same as she did when she was eight."

"You're right." Lord Death nodded, drifting back over to where the large, full-length mirror stood proudly in the center of the room. He vanished behind it, but reappeared a few moments later with some sort of small paper in his goofy, gloved hands.

"Spirit sent this as well… It was taken last year, so it should be a fairly accurate photo." He handed it to Kid, revealing the paper to actually be a wallet-sized photograph. It was crinkled, and the edges were slightly worn, but it was still easy to see the young blonde girl, posing as if for a school picture. A bright smile took up most of her face, her happy expression suiting her preppy wardrobe of a yellow sweater vest and white long-sleeved undershirt. Her hair was tied up in pigtails, much to Kid's amusement. _Some things never change, _he thought warmly.

Lord Death observed Kid quietly, taking in his sad expression as he studied the picture. He wished he could tell his son more, but the situation was just so delicate that there was no way Kiddo could know any more than he already did. At least not for a while, anyway. He knew that his son would do his best to find Maka Albarn- they used to be such good friends, after all- but something still made him hesitate.

"Look, I know that Spirit isn't your favorite person, so don't think of it as doing it for him." He reasoned. "Think of it as doing a good deed, both to Maka and for the greater good of Death City."

"Yeah." Kid nodded, Maka's photograph clenched tightly in his hand. "I know."

**XXX**

** BECAUSE KID NEEDS A PART IN THIS STORY! And also, ironically enough, this was eight pages on Word. There won't be a KiMa pairing, I promise. I can barely handle SoMa as it is, I don't need a love triangle to deal with, too. Just good old-fashioned friendship. Seriously. **

**So, anyways, I was writing this in my room and all of a sudden one of the light bulbs started spazzing out. It scared the shit out of me! But whatever. That was sort of random. Anyways, I wrote this chapter basically because I felt bad that it took me forever to update the last chapter, and even then nothing really happened in it and it sucked. Sorry about that, guys! I love you for still reviewing and reading this story! **

** Thanks again to Guest, Fingersofbone (sorry about the new story. I'll do Savin' me next.) Tanya, demeos123, and Strophantus for reviewing!**

** Love, **

** HitTheKillSwitch**


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